The Adventures of Terrence the Tabby Cat: Terrence and the Terrible Jack Russells

By Murray Nabors

This book begins the series of adventures of Terrence the Tabby Cat as he encounters the Terrible Jack Russells. Terrence the Tabby Cat lives with his family on a three acre spread in Oxford, Mississippi. He pretty well manages things around the place, including his human owners and their three daughters, Maria, Alex, and Amanda, with some help from two cat friends, Kitkat and Tigerton, and Little Lacy Lou, the Saint Bernard. Abruptly, his life style is threatened and his stress level increased by the intrusion of two, active Jack Russell puppies, Lilly and Jessie. Also, his cowboy wannabe owners, Dusty and Jalene, may decide to move the family to Wyoming to become ranchers. Can he solve these problems and still maintain his schedule of daily naps?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Murray Nabors
• Release date: Sep 20, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301111305

Book preview

The Adventures of Terrence the Tabby Cat:

Terrence and the Terrible Jack Russels

Murray Nabors

Copyright 2011 by Murray Nabors

Smashwords Edition

The Adventures of Terrence the Tabby Cat:

Terrence and the Terrible Jack Russells

Chapter 1. The Way It Is Around Here

Hello! So, this is a story about me, Terrence the Terrible. As you can no doubt tell, I’m a tabby cat. As you’ll see, and as I’ve often heard it said, I’m quite a fellow. Also, you’ll learn that we cats sort of have the upper hand in most respects—especially when it comes to dogs, and doubly especially when it comes to yip-yip dogs like Jack Russells. Listen up, and you’ll learn some pretty amazing stuff.

Let me sing you a song about myself. You’ll probably like it a lot.

I’m Terrence

I’m Terrence the Terrible Cat

I’m fierce, and that is that.

Wherever I go, the whole world knows

That to trifle with me is insane.

Terr...ence, Terr...ence

Terrible, redoubtable Terrence

There’s as much of me as there can possibly be.

But you’ll wish there was more

As you’ll see.

Oh Terrence, beautiful Terrance,

I’m loveable and sweet as well.

My coat is fine and as sleek as can be.

It represents only the outside of me.

Terr...ence, Terr...ence

Terrible, redoubtable Terrence

There’s as much of me as there can possibly be.

But you’ll wish there was more

As you’ll see.

I’m Terrence the Terrifically Terrible Cat!

That song sums up quite a lot about me, as you’ll see. This story is all about a time in my life when lots of things changed. I’m still not sure how I feel about all that, but you’ll see soon enough that how I feel about things doesn’t necessarily have a big effect on them, although it should. Usually, I’m out to change that hard fact-o’-life, and sometimes I get the job done! Get it done in spite of numerous obstacles that dogs and people—to name two principal irritants—might put in my path.

Well, here I am, Terrence the Tabby Cat, introducing myself. At the start of each Chapter are pictures María and Alex drew of me. They are good artists, and they have captured some of my best features. Notice, for instance, the distinguished whiskers and the well groomed tabby fur. I’m a pretty big guy, and a lot of effort goes into my grooming. I’m writing this to let you in on my exciting life and adventures in a most important and singularly beautiful and exciting place, Oxford, Mississippi. Since Oxford is small and kind of out of the way, you may not have been there. So, if you don’t know, I’ll just mention that it’s more or less the Center of the Universe, but if you haven’t been here, you might not know that, so I’ll tell you all about it from time to time. Then, you’ll want to come, sure.

As you should know, Terrence is the name given me by our human companions, Dusty and Jalene, who think they run the show. By the way, Dusty is a cowboy name. I know that cause Dusty keeps telling me. His real name is Andy. Can you believe it?

Terrence, we’re going to do this the cowboy way, he’ll say.

I didn’t even know what a cowboy was or think to ask about it until it was too late, but more about that later when we get to the sad, sad subject of Wyoming, which is full of cowboys. You’ll pardon me if we skip it now cause it gets me kinda worked up.

And by the way, I wasn’t asked about my name. Personally, I prefer to be called Tabby the Terrible, cause it’s very descriptive. Sometimes I also go by or at least get by on my nick name: Bubba Beau Joe Bob or BBJB for short. That’s a Southern thing, which you may not understand if you’re not from around here. Don’t worry about it. And don’t call me Terry. Just don’t do it! It’s a little too andoganous for me. You see, there’s an ugly smished faced bull dog down the street who goes by Terry, which is okay cause he looks like a Terrie or a Terry in all respects. Terri-ble joke, huh?

I might as well introduce you to the other animals around here. By here I mean our neighborhood, which is called Lakeway Gardens. Seem pretty silly to me on account of there isn’t a lake within a hundred miles. Well, I don’t really know that, but I’ve never seen a lake, and I’m pretty well traveled. On the other hand, the next door neighbor has a boat on a trailer and the whole rig smells like a big fish. I sit in it sometimes and day dream.

Terr, you caught a big one. How’d you snag that, you big hero? There’s most generally a female cat of my acquaintance talking to me in the dream, but more about that later.

I’m very curious about that boat, but I don’t know much about it other than that it sure smells good, and he drives off with it a couple of times a week, mostly to get away from his wife. She gives me treats from time to time, so I guess I should be nicer. I’ve learned however that, in general, honesty gets you further, faster and in high style.

I’m sorry to say that we have a dog as well. Sadly, this whole story is about dogs. But as the story began our only resident goof ball was Little Lacy Lou, the Saint Bernard, if you can believe that. Sounds like the name you’d give a little white foo-foo dog, doesn’t it? Well, Little Lacy Lou is neither lacy nor little. Her name outta be Large Lumbering Lummox. She doesn’t even like little dogs, and on that score we are friends—well sort of. Mostly she just sits around in a laze and makes smart remarks—sometimes even funny smart remarks to anyone within hearing distance. But she has an equal opportunity wit, and when she turns it my way—well I don’t like it much, and sometimes I’m forced to take counter measures. She’s fast when she wants to be for a dog the size of a sofa. And she has been responsible for a number of my close encounters. See, when she gets riled up, she does stupid things and causes a lot of big time damage. And you’ll hear plenty about that!

The place has other cats too; namely KitKat and Tiger the Upstart. KitKat is an elderly gal and pretty much minds her own business. She’s mostly black with white feet and a fairly rotten disposition. We’ve known each other for years, and so we’ve mostly learned to tolerate each other, even though it riles me to have to eat out of the same bowl with her. Would you like it if you had to eat dinner with your head half an inch from someone who would just as soon take your face off as pass the time of day? I didn’t think so!

Tiger is new and quite large for a youngster. He’s a big orange tabby, including his eyes, which are both large and orange. He calls himself Tigerton. KitKat hates him, and he’s about the only living thing, nowdays, that can get her upset enough to fight. I’d have to agree with her that he has no manners. Just parades around wherever he pleases, eating anybody’s and everybody’s food, exploring, and getting himself into oodles of trouble. Between you and me, he’s a lot like I used to be.

The trouble with KitKat is that it takes her five years to get used to anyone new around the place. That seems to be true of female cats in general, I’d say. But that’s enough said about them for now. About her name, it comes from Dusty as well. She generally calls herself Delia. Despite all her faults I’d have to agree that it’s a nice name.

Well, enough for the introductions for now. Oh, but I haven’t told